


Big Spender

by aphleser



Category: Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: Big Spender, Clarice is a dive bar singer, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphleser/pseuds/aphleser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarice is a singer in a dive bar, doing her usual boring rounds, when Dr. Hannibal Lecter walks in, good-looking and so refined. What could happen between the two? Rated M for swearing and mature themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to 'Big Spender' with Shirley Bassey singing, and I had the most absurd idea about Clarice as a singer in a dive bar, and in walks Hannibal...  
> Quick disclaimer: this is not a songfic, nor do I have any right to the song 'Big Spender'.

_The minute you walked in the joint..._

Clarice was having a dull evening. The same old round, parading herself like a show pony, to the same old song. Ordinarily, she would have liked it, but since it became her 'signature' (so said the greasy club owner), she couldn't escape it.

As she sang, the door swung open and a man walked in. Usually, Clarice kept her eyes on the exit sign directly above said door, to avoid meeting anyone's eyes, in case they got it into their heads that she was paying them attention. But this man drew her eye, and she felt herself blush when she noticed him watching her with dark, maroon eyes.

_I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender..._

He was good-looking, she had to admit, with an air of sophistication and culture. She wondered what a man like him was doing in a joint like this. It wasn't exactly the Ritz. And he was wearing a bespoke suit, tailored to fit. And it fit him well, she noticed...

Hoo-boy, hold that thought, girl. You do not get mixed up with the more suspect customers of this establishment, she reminded herself. He may look nice, but he could easily be a stalker. Ardelia had told her when she first arrived that there were some real dangerous creeps that tended to get fixated on a girl, and that she had broken a few noses in her time here, protecting the girls.

Clarice kept singing, the words coming as second nature to her, she was so familiar with the melody.

Keeping her eyes on the refined gentleman, who had taken a seat at the bar, ordered a glass of wine, and turned his red gaze on her. Well, she was used to that, at the very least, in her line of work. But something about being in his sight, she had the distinct feeling that she was being X-rayed and  _seen_ , not just stared at because of the tight-fitting dress.

She finished her song, and made to leave the stage. Cue Chilton (her greasy boss) intercepting her.

"Sweetheart," she grimaced, "the man at the bar wants you," he said lecherously, not even hiding his staring at her chest. Clarice sighed internally.

"Can I at least change quickly?" She asked, hoping to let Ardelia know who she was with before meeting a mystery man. It was their routine now, let each other know their movements, and ensure their safety. Chilton nodded, not taking his eyes of her body.

Clarice slipped into the dressing room, sighing out loud. Quickly, she changed into a simple shift dress, and hunted Ardelia down.

"Hey, girl," said Ardelia, applying blusher, "I'm not on until 11, do you want to talk?"

"I can't, Dee, Chilton's sent me to entertain some guy at the bar." She quickly described what he was wearing, and what he looked like. Ardelia nodded sagely, blew her kiss and wished her luck. Clarice blew one back, smiling.

Carefully, she picked her way between little round tables to the bar. Barney was serving tonight, she noted with relief. Barney was a sweetheart, a gentle giant who looked out for the girls and never hesitated to spill a drink over a handsy customer. She was as safe as she could be.

"Good evening, sir. I believe you requested my presence?" she said to the gentleman, watching him carefully. He was even more handsome up close. He smiled.

"I did indeed, my dear. What's your name?"

"What's yours?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Hannibal Lecter."

"The Doctor?" Clarice asked, a little surprised that Dr Lecter, of psychiatric repute, would frequent _this_  dive bar.

"Yes, you know of me?"

"Yes, I read your article in the most recent American Journal of Psychiatry. Your profile on the mind of a serial killer was amazing." A real smiled worked its way onto her face.

"Thank you, my dear. I must confess I wasn't expecting to be recognised at such an extablishment. But I still don't know your name."

"Claire," she said, giving her stage name. He sucked in a breath, narrowing his eyes playfully.

"I don't think that's quite right, my dear. Try again." Clarice was surprised, he had been able to tell that she had lied.

"Clarice." she said, with a hint of intrigue.

"A beautiful name." Clarice inclined her head in thanks, a little flattered.

"So you read the American Journal of Psychiatry?"

"Yes, I get it delivered. It exercises my mind."

"And does this profession exercise your body?" Clarice's cheeks burned at his implication.

"I'm not a prostitute, Dr Lecter." she said, cold anger flowing through her.

"Forgive me, Clarice, I did not mean to offend. I was curious."

"Maybe you should remember that curiosity killed the cat." she said sharply.

"But satisfaction brought it back, my dear, and you could most definitely satisfy my tastes..." Her cheeks burned again, no other man had been quite this tasteful about his desires. Usually she got an "I want to fuck you so hard", which was lacking in finesse and subtlety, to say the very least.

"Dr Lecter, you're being very forward. But if you do want me to satisfy you may have to pay a little extra."

"I believe you insisted that you were not a prostitute?" He teased.

"I'm not." she said firmly, "I'm an escort."

"Ah," Dr Lecter smiled indulgently in understanding. She allowed herself to smile at him. So sue her, he was more charming than all of the regulars put together.

"May I ask why it is a refined doctor, such as yourself, finds himself in this kind of establishment?"

"I don't believe the Baltimore Philharmonic could satisfy me like this place could, Clarice." She almost laughed, but caught herself.

"Surely you have a wife?" He shook his head with a smile.

"No, I don't."

"So you seek the company of escorts."

"So I seek the company of escorts." He smiled, echoing her words back to her.

"I'm sure you could do much better than this place, Doctor."

"I don't know, Clarice, 'this place' has it's attractions." For the first time, he let his eyes drift to her mouth.

"I must give you some credit, Doctor," Clarice said lightly, "you're far more polite than my regulars."

"I don't think that's a compliment, my dear, I've seen the types that haunt this place. But do I get a reward nonetheless?" He leaned in, eyes boring into hers with breath-halting intensity.

"You'll have to work harder for that, Doctor." she breathed back, her chin lifting.

"Hmm, how about dinner?" Clarice laughed, "What is it, Clarice?"

"I've never, in all of my time working here, been asked to dinner."

"A crying shame, my dear. How about a stroll by the river?"

"How romantic, a girl's heart may melt." Clarice teased, letting herself smile properly.

"Then it's settled. Do you have a coat?"

"I do, let me fetch it."

"I'll wait, Clarice." She threw a three-fingered wave at him over her shoulder, and he smiled. Disappearing into the dressing room, she found Ardelia reading.

"Hey, Dee, the guy at the bar and I are going for a stroll, I just need to get my coat." Ardelia sat up.

"Are you sure, girl? He looked a little dangerous."

"He is, but he's also far more respectful than anyone I've ever met. Barney-level." Ardelia's eyebrows raised.

"Goodness. He's a rare breed. Take your cell, just in case."

"Will do. Take care, Dee. I won't be long, and if I am, I'll let you know." Ardelia smiled as she left.

Making her way back to the bar, Clarice wrapped the coat around her slender shoulders. Dr Lecter saw her coming and smiled. He offered his arm, like a true gentleman.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

* * *

 

The pair walked to the nearest bridge, where the pathway sank down near the water's edge. Arm in arm with a handsome Doctor, Clarice allowed herself to enjoy the night lights playing off the water's surface, red, orange and blue glittering in the little waves.

"You try awfully hard for something you could get very easily, Doctor." Clarice remarked absent-mindedly.

"Call me Hannibal, my dear. And I do like a chase. Delayed gratification is something I enjoy greatly." Clarice blushed. Even though she was well used to it, working in her profession, his comments made her cheeks turn redder than roses.

"You're quite beautiful, Clarice." She rolled her eyes, and Lecter found himself even more attracted to her, in spite of the insolence of the gesture.

"Looks are an accident, Hannibal."

"If comeliness were earned, you'd still be beautiful." Clarice slowed her pace.

"Earned how? Sleeping with men for money? Or maybe singing breathy jazz for their enjoyment?"

"You're much more than that, Clarice."

"How would you know? You've only just met me." Clarice challenged. They had stopped walking now, stationary under a lampost.

"I must admit, I knew of you before I met you."

"How?" Clarice didn't like where this was going. He knew about her before meeting her. This had  _danger_  written all over it.

"Barney and I are good friends. We worked together frequently when he was a nurse, and I a GP, before I specialised."

"Barney used to be a nurse? What's he doing tending a bar then?" Clarice was intrigued, and more than slightly relieved. Barney was a good man. If he was friends with Doctor Lecter, she was safe.

"That's something only he can tell you. I don't share my friends' confidences."

"You're a very good friend, then."

"I like to think so." Hannibal smiled winningly at her, and she felt herself melt a little. Goodness, give her half an hour with a charming, respectful man, and she wanted to rip his clothes off. Maybe this job made her dating instincts weak. She bit her lip, trying to reign herself in.

"Don't fight it, Clarice. Let yourself feel, whatever the emotion. The repression of emotions never ends well." Hannibal advised, dipping his head nearer hers, their foreheads barely brushing.

"I-" Clarice began, but before she could continue, Hannibal's mouth landed on her neck, in the sweet junction under her ear. She let out a breathy sigh as he kissed the spot tenderly.

"Doctor Lecter-"

"Hannibal," he corrected, his lips brushing the soft skin of her throat. She smelled wonderful, l'Air du Temps, and natural female muskiness. He kissed the spot again, before moving up to her jaw.

"Hannibal," she managed, before sighing again. "Oh, I wanted to make you wait a little longer." she whispered as he let his nose run along her jawline.

"Oh no, my dear, this chase is over." whispered Hannibal triumphantly. He kissed the corner of her mouth softly, chastely, and her sigh was dangerously close to a moan. She was being ravished under lamplight by a man she barely knew, and my God was she enjoying it.

Tilting her head, she let their mouths meet in a soft kiss, which quickly grew passionate. He was a wonderful kisser, and her purrs of contentment were answered with growls from him. When they broke for air, Clarice noticed that his hand was wrapped securely around her waist, the other cradling her jaw. She had never been held like this.

"Come home with me," Hannibal asked breathlessly. Clarice inhaled sharply. If his kissing was any indication, a night with Doctor Lecter may prove to be the best she'd ever have.

"Let me call my friend first. I told her I'd let her know any changes to my plan."

"Of course, do you have a cell?" Screw that, Hannibal was the best she'd every had and they hadn't even gone further than kissing yet.

"I do, excuse me for just a moment." He let her go, and she made the call from a few steps away.

"Hey, Dee, I'm going home with Doctor Lecter tonight. Don't wait up for me, 'kay?"

"Doctor Lecter? He's the mystery guy?"

"Yeah, and he's respectful and polite, so I'll be fine."

"Well, if his reputation is to be believed, you'll be the safest person in Baltimore, Clarice."

"Glad to hear it, love you Dee. I'll see you tomorrow. Probably."

"Enjoy it, girl, you deserve it." Clarice blushed, and sneaked a look and Hannibal. His arms were resting on the bridge railing, watching the patterns of light on the water.

"Bye, Ardelia."

"Bye, Clarice." She hung up. Hannibal moved over to her, a soft smile on his face.

"Your friend is correct, you are the safest person in Baltimore with me."

"I can look after myself, Hannibal." Clarice said confidently.

"I'm aware, but should anything happen, rest assured, we stop immediately if you feel at all uncomfortable." No one had ever said that to her. It was all about the desires of the client, never her own.

She gave him a passionnate, hot kiss, breaking away before he could begin to kiss back. He looked disappointed, and he followed her mouth involuntarily. She smiled triumphantly.

"Let's go, Hannibal." With a crooked smile, Hannibal offered his arm, and she took it with a smile in return.


	2. Chapter 2

As they walked, Hannibal savoured every mollecule of this night; the moonlight almost bouncing off the slick waters of the river, light perfume filling his nostrils, the warmth of Clarice's delicate hand on his arm. At night, senses were enhanced, augmented to such a degree that it was almost inebriating. Having nursed a drink all night, Hannibal knew he was not drunk. That made his senses all the sharper, to enjoy the flavour of the night.

The prospect of a night with Clarice was enough to set his blood singing, and his steps quickened just a smidgeon, eager to get home and tear that wonderful, teasing shift dress off of her body. The lines of her form were most promising, and Hannibal had the feeling that she would be breathtaking naked.

Clarice likewise was eager to begin their night together. His arm was taut under the expensive fabric of his suit, muscles tensed to exhibit a little power. Despite only being a little taller than she was, his hands were rather large, and for a brief moment she entertained torrid fantasies of her all over her body. Almost immediately, she blushed.

 _Still so virginal, even in your line of work._  The voice in her head was never kind, was it? Clarice banished it from taking up residence in her mind.

As they walked, the still night remained poetically mild and romantic. Blossom was just beginning to bloom, buds unwinding from their tight knots into modest flowers. Branches reached over the river, and the railings on each side glittered in the yellow lamplight.

Gradually, the houses became more and more luxurious, growing larger and grander with every street the pair passed. Curious, Clarice eyed each housefront carefully, wondering if this one or that one would be Hannibal's, and being wrong every time. They passed the redstones, the townhouses, and finally what looked like a small manor house. Hannibal stopped suddenly, making Clarice scuff her shoes.

The house before them was expensive, she could tell. She may be just a girl from West Virginia, but she could at least recognise luxury and taste when she saw it.

It was fairy-tale-esque, in the soft evening light. Red brick, three floors, immaculately manicured lawns and neatly trimmed shrubs either side of the wrought iron gates. From where Clarice was standing, the whole outlook was framed neatly, each side of the house perfectly symmetrical. It was dark, and classy, and somehow perfectly matched it's proprietor. As Hannibal opened the gate for her, Clarice felt a little like Mary in  _The Secret Garden_ , allowed into this beautiful, rich world.

Fishing the keys from his inside pocket, Hannibal gave Clarice a warm smile as the latch clicked and the oak front door swung open invitingly.

The interior décor was as lavish as the exterior, all rich red carpet and warm brown panelling, with tasteful art pieces hanging in the hallways. Clarice looked about her in wonder, amazed by such a wonderful design, so classy and upper-class.

 _So this is how the other half live. Feeling jealous, inadequate yet, Clarice?_  Her wonder was once again interrupted by the voice in her head, snide and sneering. She shook her head determinedly. Not tonight, not tonight.

"May I take your coat?" Hannibal broke across her internal monologue. Clarice smiled, and nodded.

"You may." Her accent sounded so coarse next to his cultured voice, she winced.

Hannibal pretended not to notice her grimace and took her coat, hanging it up neatly on the polished hooks either side of the front door. Taking her by the hand, he lead Clarice into the drawing room, and sat her down as he set himself delaying tasks. Through setting a blazing fire and pouring them both a glass of sweet dessert wine, Hannibal hoped that she might become more comfortable.

She didn't. Clarice's posture didn't relax, despite the comfort of the sofa and the warm atmosphere. Her hands gripped the small glass tightly, and remained resolutely in her lap.

"Clarice, if I may, you don't look at all comfortable. Is there anything I can do to help you?" Clarice looked entirely taken aback.

"Hannibal, it's not you at all, it's... look, I-I'm not really accustomed to luxury of this caliber. I warm beds for a living, it's rare that I'm invited to such a wonderful home." Hannibals suspicions were confirmed; Clarice felt insecure. From her accent, she was West Virginian, and although well-mannered, she was not at all high born. Not that it mattered to him, but it was obviously a factor in her discomfort.

"I understand. But I want you to know that you belong here as much as I do, Clarice. Luxury is not only for the chosen few." Hannibal met her eyes, and wondered at the cold warmth there. Curious description, cold heat, but that's what her eyes looked like. Blue may be the warmest colour, after all.

"Thank you, Hannibal, you do have a lovely home. It's only a shame that-" Clarice stopped herself short. She was presuming too much.

"A shame that what, Clarice?"

"Forget I said anything, it wasn't proper." Clarice waved her wine glass, in an attempt to be flippant.

"Clarice..."

"It's not important, Hannibal." She made her tone a little firmer.

"Please tell me?" His eyes implored her.

"I was going to say that it's a shame that you live alone, but I don't mean to presume anything about your life, I should make such comments, I'm only hired evening entertainment after all, and-" She began to babble, feeling the insecurity mount higher and higher, and her shoulders rise to her ears, and her hands grip the glass tighter.

"Clarice. I am not offended, at all. Calm yourself, you are free to think and presume all you desire here. I'm frankly flattered that you feel I must be lonely. Truthfully, I have always enjoyed my own company, since I was a child."

"But surely you don't spend all of your time alone?"

"No, of course not. But I am well-practised in the art of being solitary." Clarice tipped her head contemplatively to one side.

"Then why am I here?"

"Because being alone can be rather dull sometimes." Hannibal smiled, and Clarice smiled back. He raised his glass to her, and she mirrored him. They both drank.

"Now, I hate to ask this question, my dear. Its crude nature ruins your lovely company, but I must ask; how much do you cost for one night?" Clarice didn't even blink, her expression didn't change from the soft smile gracing her lips. He did look genuinely contrite, bless him.

"For you, Hannibal, I'm free." She whispered, as she set the glass aside carefully and shifted closer. He watched her closely, as she began to stroke his shoulders through his shirt, caressing the expensive fabric.

"Are you positive, Clarice, because I am more than happy to-" She cut him off with a burning kiss, hands moving to his chest and trailing down. Trailing back up, she began to unbutton his shirt slowly, opening her mouth just a little. Hannibal answered with the parting of his own lips, and their tongues met. Shuddering softly, he eagerly deepened the kiss, eyes shut, hands cradling her jaw.

Kissing her was a dream, a waking dream, so warm and fulfilling. Her mouth was sweet, honeyed, like a well-aged wine. Softly, she bit his bottom lip, and he groaned lightly into her mouth. He felt her smile, and doubled his efforts. Soon, his hands were running down her bare arms, fingering the thin straps of her dress. He was vaguely aware of his shirt opening, and her hands on his chest, but sensations were a little hazy.

She was heady, she made him giddy, with her soft mouth and delicate hands and warm body now pressing against him-

"Oh!" He gasped a little, the unexpected heat of her suddenly very close. Clarice withdrew, and Hannibal unwittingly followed her mouth as it moved away from his.

"Are you alright, Hannibal?" He blinked, and nodded.

"Yes, I feel wonderful. Would you mind resuming your earlier actions?" Clarice smirked.

"Not at all," she purred, letting their lips meet chastely, before opening her mouth to him again. Their moans sounded in tandem, almost in harmony, hers throaty and his growling.

Suddenly, Hannibal hoisted her into his lap, large hands spanning her slim waist. She giggled as she settled, wiggling her hips to fit snugly against his. Clarice looped her arms around his neck, and began to kiss down his jaw to his neck, paying special attention to the spot just under his earlobe.

Breathing heavily, Hannibal savoured her mouth on his skin, feeling himself warm all over. With her squirming in his lap, his body awakened, hardening for her. Her hips rolled expertly, as he held her waist tightly. Her mouth reached the soft junction of neck and shoulder, and sucked once, quickly. He gasped in excitement.

Suddenly intent on paying back the teasing treatment, Hannibal moved his mouth over the delicious skin, finding her sweet spot with ease. She was a responsive lover, and one who made plenty of encouraging sounds when he did something she particularly liked. She also tasted delicious, dark and wanting and  _woman_.

Rolling her hips a little rougher now, Clarice purred under his attentions, her whole body vibrating with pleasure. He was a talented lover, indeed. She had lucked out with this one.

Hannibal gripped her tighter, and yanked her closer, if that was even possible. They were practically breathing the same air.

Abruptly, he stood up, and Clarice wrapped her toned legs tight around his waist, still enjoying his oral attentions. One strap fell down, leaving enticing shoulder bare, and Hannibal chased it, kissing down her chest.

"Take me upstairs, Hannibal," Clarice whispered in his ear, and he obliged, climbing the steps with ease. Taking one hand off of her ass to open the door, Hannibal replaced it as quickly as possible, and Clarice hummed in approval. Suddenly there was nothing in the world more important than divesting herself of clothing right this second, and Hannibal was only too happy to oblige. Her dress pooled on the floor, and she stepped out of it in her lingerie, white satin with soft lace trimming. She was a vision in loveliness, and the sight of so much soft flesh begging to be tasted had Hannibal hungry for her.

His own clothes had become bothersome, and she helped with the zipper at the front of his trousers, deliberately palming his bulge, and smirking triumphantly at his groan. Pushing him onto the four-poster bed, Clarice climbed onto his hips, straddling his hardness and delighting in his hungry look.

"How do you want me, Hannibal? Gasping underneath you, moaning above you, pushing back against you, desperate and starving for your-" She let her hips buck once, informing him through touch which part of his anatomy she was referring to. His answering loud moan was music to her ears, and his hot hands burned over her body.

She felt him grow harder under her, and smiled. It appeared his body had made the decision for him.

"You want me on top, yes? Riding you hard until you can't handle it any longer, gasping for release?" Her hips bucked harder, rougher, rotating expertly. His hands held her in place, encouraging her movements. He nodded furiously, seemingly unable to do anything but gasp and groan.

"Clarice,  _Clarice_ ," Hannibal gasped, holding her tight against him, bucking upwards, seeking friction. Her name on his lips was a prayer, a whisper, a plea and a hymn all at one. He made her simple name sound like music.

Clarice slowly removed her bra, sliding the straps down teasingly before unhooking it, letting the lace tickle her as she pulled it away from her body. His eyes went immediately to her breasts, soft and heavy. His hands travelled up her ribs, silently asking permission. At her nod, Hannibal allowed his fingertips to brush the underside, feeling the weight fill his palms as he cupped her. As his thumbs circled her sensitive nipples, Clarice gasped and moaned.

"Hannibal, oh, yes," she hissed, pushing her chest into his hands.

"Are you desperate for my touch, Clarice? How many men took the time to really appreciate your body for the gift it is?"

"None," Clarice gasped, "Only you." He smirked in victory. Palming her breasts, Hannibal felt her hips begin to circle his once more, her wet heat warming his own private area. She was soaked, he could tell. Teasingly, he let his fingertips trail down her sides to pull at the waistband of her panties, tugging playfully. In answer, Clarice tugged at his black silk boxers.

Reluctantly, she rose up, and they both quickly rid themselves of undergarments. Settling herself back down, Clarice and Hannibal released synchronised moans at the contact. Tipping her head back, Clarice began to rise and fall, teasing Hannibal harder and thicker. He obliged, feeling himself swell almost painfully.

She was dripping, wetter than he had ever experienced.

"Clarice, I think it's time, don't you?" Hannibal growled. Clarice simply nodded, and moved off Hannibal enough for him to reach for a condom. Taking it from him and ripping it open eagerly, she rolled the rubber neatly over his hardness. Clarice rose up to grip him tightly, hearing his quick intake of breath. Smiling, she guided him inside of her wet heat, the pair moaning as she sank down on him. He was large, and filled her up. She felt a sense of completion, and Hannibal stroked her hips, letting her slowly adjust to him.

Truthfully he wanted to savour this moment, allow her to really feel him deep inside of her.

As she began to move slowly, Hannibal felt her tighten and relax periodically, her excitement obvious and incredibly arousing. She was a little temptress, rocking her hips against him, accepting him further inside. He had just enough control over himself for this to last as long as she wanted.

Clarice was almost bouncing on top of him, hands planted on his chest, breasts bouncing with her. She was a sight to behold, she left Hannibal in awe. She inspired music and art and beauty. A woman's body was truly a piece of art, made for hands on waists and hips, beautiful and feminine. And Clarice's body was more than just art, it was heavenly.

Gasping, Clarice rode him harder, clenching her walls around him tightly, prompting a groan from him. Eagerly, Hannibal gripped her and helped her rock, pushing his hips up into her. At her pleased moans, he doubled his efforts, thrusting upwards energetically.

With a passionate cry, Clarice shuddered around him, wetness gushing down his length, her pleasure sparking through her entire body like electricity. She rode her orgasm for as long as she could manage, fluttering around his hardness, before collapsing onto Hannibal's chest.

"Wow," was all she could manage, and Hannibal chuckled, stroking her hair tenderly. She rose to look at him, meet his eyes, but before she could speak realised that Hannibal was still hard and hot inside of her.

"Oh, Hannibal, I'm so sorry, I didn't notice- oh!" Before she could even finish her sentance, Clarice found herself under Hannibal, his length reaching new, wonderful angles. Her eyes drifted shut at the sensations.

"I believe it's my turn, wouldn't you agree?" Clarice nodded, and lifted her legs to lock around his waist. He thrusted once, experimentally, and felt her tighten around him. She was a wonderful lover, responsive, eager to please, noisy. Her little gasps and moans could get him hard all on their own.

He began to pound into her, focusing on getting her to a second peak with him. Her noises were heaven to his ears, mouth open in pleasure, and hips thrusting to meet his. The bedframe was rocking, hitting the wall with the force of their shared passion, and with one last thrust, Hannibal felt Clarice tighten almost painfully around him, before shattering again with a soft cry of ecstasy. He moaned in answer, and exploded inside of her, feeling at one with this wonderful woman.

Breathing heavily, the pair smiled and came down from they respective highs with gentle caresses. When Hannibal pulled out, Clarice moaned a little at the loss.

Hannibal quickly dealt with the used condom, and joined Clarice back in bed, gathering her into his arms. Warm and sated, the couple snuggled together, and fell asleep almost instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this continuation was to your satisfaction. Leave some feedback, please!


End file.
